Tonight these sights are guaranteed to feed the masterThe tide of blood is risingHis gifts will be providing

Unmasked, the phantom lord De RaisHaunts the furthest towerWherein death has sucked the hour

There, throttled gasps tantamount for foreplayAnd drooling razors next to comeUnspool red secrets from the young

The moon grinned full, the games were chasteWhen the children first arrivedNow midnight shadows crawl apaceTo darken council with their lives

Flesh and ecstasy as sportAre immortal vices of the highest orderWherein devilry holds swayBehold blind walls where these cockatrice squalledTheir songs of NecronomiconSpoke out of Gilles De Rais

Each murdered son, each frozen roseHandpicked, was gently fedTo the sumptuous one in black and thoseWhose lives where thrown in with the dead

The candles lit, the stage was setAs it was in sainted daysWhen censers swung and banners hungOn the Siege of Orleans on the painted Seine

Now the castle floats in the drifting fogTorn from it's mooringsLike a shipwreck dredged from HellAs innocents entreat a shiffing GodTheir voices soaringOn a silver tide to heavenOn a knife edge as they fell

The blade would plunge in virulent arcsSuch wounds would stretch awayBy the fireside, warmed to creative sparksOf the monster Gilles De Rais

Gilded Gilles De Rais

Comets vomitedThe restless bells of crimePeeled black skin from broken bonesOf angels cut from the nicks of time

Festering faces with painted eyesThe prettiest kept to be thrust insideGaping necromantic from the mantle-sideCaked in kissed goodbyes

Days faded in decayThe stench of perfume liedNo horror in the glades of manWas left for Barrom to provide

So unique was the beat of his poisoned heartAnd it's sordid, morbid crackNo further atrocity could possibly surpassUnrewarded, bored, he turned his burning back